i hate locks. i always forget my keys. i hate asking people to let me in. it reminds me of that one chick. not nikki. the chick that caused the lock down duh. dead
I have a strange deadbolt on my front door. I’m afraid to lock it because the kids may not be able to get out during an emergency. I need to get a new one but I never think to get one while I’m out.I do like the security a deadbolt offers, however. They make me feel much safer.
The deadbolt turned. It was the only thing keeping him away from her. What was she going to do when he got in? Would he hurt her? Or would he be kind and jovial? The complete opposite of what he had been lately. It was always a question when it came to him. She never
She sprinted through the open door and whipped around to deadbolt it behind her. Her breath was coming in puffs, every one burning down her throat and searing the insides of her lungs.
“Do you think we’re safe?” Asked Chloe. Her big blue eyes were wide with fear.
“Yes,” she lied. “They won’t get us, here.”
dead bolt
used and over used
but kept on the dusty shelve beside those unread books
in hopes that it will become magically useful
at some point in time
and it just remains there
dead
tumblot the thing that comes when tumblr is down and it really makes me angry, or perhaps its a dead bolt as in a bolt that no longer is useful and remains in a drawer or on a dusty shelve unused but not thrown away in hope it will magically be fixed and use
Deadbolt, a thick bar. Makes me think of the Frankenstein monster and the bolts in his neck… I never saw that movie, read the book one time in highschool. Man, that was awhile ago. Frankenstein, huh?
Deadbolts are scary sounding. It sounds like something you’d use when you never want to come back. In a way it symbolizes things you want to get rid of in life. Deadbolt the door to your past, or regrets and just go on with your future.
Like the cemetery next door, the house sat silent. A single lit candle threw all shadows into dim relief. As Nathaniel reclined on his grandmother’s divan, he sipped bourbon out of an antique glass. The turning of a key in the deadbolt sounded like the crack of a rifle. The door creaked open and moonlight lit a path into the room. “Well, Mr. Robinson,” Nathaniel calmly poured a second glass and refilled his own. “Will you join me for a nightcap?” Robinson entered the room warily. “How do I know you haven’t poisoned it?” “Come now, Robinson.” Nathaniel took a generous swallow. “I’m drinking it myself.” “True,” Robinson perched on the edge of a chair and took a single sip. The glass slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers and Robinson folded onto the floor. His eyes dashed to and fro’ in panic. “You must be asking yourself, ‘how did he do it?'” Nathaniel continued to sip his bourbon. “Well, then. Have I ever told of my enduring fascination with magic?”
I ran for my life as the killer came towards me with his knife ran high. I tripped as I reached the door and clung to the door knob. Reaching for the deadbolt, my sweaty fingers couldn’t turn the switch. I watched as the man stood towering over me, a grin in his eyes that dripped revenge.
I love deadbolts, don’t really understand the name, but they feel so secure to me.
It’s one of those things we appreciate the benefits of, yet have never bothered to ask what the heck does it mean.
There are a lot of locks on the basement door that leads to a staircase outside in our new house. It’s rather frightening. I would hate to be stuck in my basement with something chasing me because it takes about 20 minutes for me to get through all of the locks on that stupid door.
“What are you talking about?!” My voice cracked, his incredulous accustations filled my head; where was all this talk coming from? My heart ached in it’s cage, tightening and constricting with every word he flung in my direction.
He turned his back to me and without a single glance back, he walked out of the room. A soft “I’m done” and the deadbolt clicking home was the last stand that he had made.
doors stuck, can’t open it… need a key. Who locked it? Credit card won’t work, need to get in to feed the dog. Put a new lock on tomorrow, but today, call a locksmith.
deadbolt, what a dead term. heavy, tired and so damn sick of keeping people out. or… i actually don’t know what a deadbolt is. maybe it’s there to hold things together. because, you know, everything needs that one thing to hold it togehter. that one thing you don’t really notice, but is still there. deadbolts. beautiful, lonely and so, so needed.
Deadbolt; as if the name of an ill-fated racehorse, a strike of lightning stopped in its prime, a supersonic bullet whose trajectory was amiss. Truly an upsetting word.
I don’t want to keep you out anymore, but I’m too afraid to let you in. If I let you in you will see how messy my life really is, so just stay out there, for a little while longer, until I’m ready. You’ll still be there…won’t you? Please don’t leave yet, and don’t be afraid, someday I’ll let that deadbolt go, and you’ll be welcomed in. But for now, you have to stay away.
This is love. This is everything and nothing. It’s the end; it’s the quick fix; it’s the beginning. It’s the lock that chains our hearts together. It’s the lock that keeps our lover’s away.
A deadbolt is used to lock a door. It is more secure than a regular lock, and lets people know that you are really serious about keeping them out of your house, and also that you are very paranoid. If you are really, really paranoid, try two or three or seven deadbolts. Make sure you lock them all, all the time. And never open the door any more than is required to just peek through a little tiny crack.
deadbolt.
that it what he was, keeping her from springing to action
to achieving her dreams.
he was afraid
demanding
restricting
and he locked the door
leaving her in the dark.
he told her that she wasn’t good enough
he made her insecure and questioning.
she could have done whatever she wanted
she could have made it to the top
to be the very highest peak to the pyramid.
but instead here she is,
forced to her knees
crushed
with the weight of him on her back
struggling to straighten.
maybe one day
she will find the key
and she will finally lift this deadbolt
to be forever free again.
I shake the gate
then follow the rusted chain
where can i enter?
I reach the end of the coil,
only to find a deadbolt
I cannot get in.
That is it.
I am done.
It does not occur to me to climb,
and still to this day
I do not know why.
Deadbolt the doors, and fear for it wont be long until someone will be kicking them in. They may be screaming search warrant or they might not say a word. Then all your possessions will become theirs. And there wont be a damn thing you can do about it. Deadbolt the doors.
when I looked out, all I could think about was what locked me in. I could see the outside, but interacting with it was so far beyond me. The lock was my security, my future, and my one curse. Would I ever move beyond it…
that sounds kind of like a band. a band i would like. maybe darkish, bluesy music. i’d enjoy it. deadbolt would have some deep meaning behind it and i’d just be dying to figure it out. i like it. i like you.
I run inside, heart pounding, and slam into the nearest room, dead bolting the door shut.
Did he hear me? Did he see me come in? I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do or how to fix this. I don’t know how to make this all better.
I sink to the floor and the walls rattle. He’s coming closer… closer. I can feel it. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to strangle or stab or kill me in some other gruesome fashion.
All because of what I did. All because of what I said.
deadbolt. what is that supposed to mean? a bolt? like nuts and bolts? that’s dead? how did it die? was it rust? old age? did the ridges cave in? is it no longer usable. deadbolt. deadbolt. you little deadbolt! it’s a nickname. god, you dumb deadbolt. how dare you, you little deadbolt?!
It locks.
It closes, andhides away.
Turn away, nothing’s here.
(I don’t want you to see them:
The skeletons in my closet)
You can’t.
I’ve locked them up and closed them away.
deadbolt, hmph, reminds me of a person. people can be deadbolts. in the sense of a locked up soul, or just a person that would weigh someone down. people deadbolt their mind and soul and dont let anything out. sounds like my dad. doesnt let anything out i wish he would
Here I am, just sitting here. I will never go anywhere. I will never do anything because I am locked in. Why? Why won’t you let me out? Why can’t I go anywhere or do anything? It’s not fair. But then again, life isn’t fair. It’s all just unfairness and injustice as people go about and do things whereas I am locked in here. Here. Here. Here I am, just sitting here.
I thought it was secured. Locked with a heavy latch. Inpenetrable. Unopenable. Unreachable. You had your methods, your manner, your madness. With one tiny click of recognition, the deadbolt to my heart was undone.
what the heck does this mean? I don’t really know, and I don’t know if I want to know. As with many things in my life, I’m fine with ignorance, after all: it is bliss. But what does deadbolt mean?
the desk in front of me is immovable and I must write something on it. Or else I might not get out of here alive.
I raise my wrist, the one chained to the leg of the chair. I think of him right outside the door, breathing, waiting, breathing for me to write anything. A letter. A story. Words.
I fumble with the pen.
This is all in my head. He’s not even here. He’s never had any hold over me he’s been conscious of. It’s all my head, his influence over me, his power. Why do I let him control me?
I am a bolt. I died one day. It was very sad. I have a family, a nut wife and two beautiful thumbtack kids. They are the love of my life. It’s very tragic that they had to hammer my head in.
i hate locks. i always forget my keys. i hate asking people to let me in. it reminds me of that one chick. not nikki. the chick that caused the lock down duh. dead
I have a strange deadbolt on my front door. I’m afraid to lock it because the kids may not be able to get out during an emergency. I need to get a new one but I never think to get one while I’m out.I do like the security a deadbolt offers, however. They make me feel much safer.
The deadbolt turned. It was the only thing keeping him away from her. What was she going to do when he got in? Would he hurt her? Or would he be kind and jovial? The complete opposite of what he had been lately. It was always a question when it came to him. She never
She sprinted through the open door and whipped around to deadbolt it behind her. Her breath was coming in puffs, every one burning down her throat and searing the insides of her lungs.
“Do you think we’re safe?” Asked Chloe. Her big blue eyes were wide with fear.
“Yes,” she lied. “They won’t get us, here.”
dead bolt
used and over used
but kept on the dusty shelve beside those unread books
in hopes that it will become magically useful
at some point in time
and it just remains there
dead
tumblot the thing that comes when tumblr is down and it really makes me angry, or perhaps its a dead bolt as in a bolt that no longer is useful and remains in a drawer or on a dusty shelve unused but not thrown away in hope it will magically be fixed and use
Slamming into its slot,
A deadbolt cages out
A past life in hopes
Of renewal.
Deadbolt, a thick bar. Makes me think of the Frankenstein monster and the bolts in his neck… I never saw that movie, read the book one time in highschool. Man, that was awhile ago. Frankenstein, huh?
she never used it… until tonight. tonight she was terrifed. but the very thought of using it scared her just as much as not.
Deadbolts are scary sounding. It sounds like something you’d use when you never want to come back. In a way it symbolizes things you want to get rid of in life. Deadbolt the door to your past, or regrets and just go on with your future.
Like the cemetery next door, the house sat silent. A single lit candle threw all shadows into dim relief. As Nathaniel reclined on his grandmother’s divan, he sipped bourbon out of an antique glass. The turning of a key in the deadbolt sounded like the crack of a rifle. The door creaked open and moonlight lit a path into the room. “Well, Mr. Robinson,” Nathaniel calmly poured a second glass and refilled his own. “Will you join me for a nightcap?” Robinson entered the room warily. “How do I know you haven’t poisoned it?” “Come now, Robinson.” Nathaniel took a generous swallow. “I’m drinking it myself.” “True,” Robinson perched on the edge of a chair and took a single sip. The glass slipped from suddenly nerveless fingers and Robinson folded onto the floor. His eyes dashed to and fro’ in panic. “You must be asking yourself, ‘how did he do it?'” Nathaniel continued to sip his bourbon. “Well, then. Have I ever told of my enduring fascination with magic?”
I ran for my life as the killer came towards me with his knife ran high. I tripped as I reached the door and clung to the door knob. Reaching for the deadbolt, my sweaty fingers couldn’t turn the switch. I watched as the man stood towering over me, a grin in his eyes that dripped revenge.
I love deadbolts, don’t really understand the name, but they feel so secure to me.
It’s one of those things we appreciate the benefits of, yet have never bothered to ask what the heck does it mean.
There are a lot of locks on the basement door that leads to a staircase outside in our new house. It’s rather frightening. I would hate to be stuck in my basement with something chasing me because it takes about 20 minutes for me to get through all of the locks on that stupid door.
“What are you talking about?!” My voice cracked, his incredulous accustations filled my head; where was all this talk coming from? My heart ached in it’s cage, tightening and constricting with every word he flung in my direction.
He turned his back to me and without a single glance back, he walked out of the room. A soft “I’m done” and the deadbolt clicking home was the last stand that he had made.
doors stuck, can’t open it… need a key. Who locked it? Credit card won’t work, need to get in to feed the dog. Put a new lock on tomorrow, but today, call a locksmith.
deadbolt, what a dead term. heavy, tired and so damn sick of keeping people out. or… i actually don’t know what a deadbolt is. maybe it’s there to hold things together. because, you know, everything needs that one thing to hold it togehter. that one thing you don’t really notice, but is still there. deadbolts. beautiful, lonely and so, so needed.
i don’t know what that means. but i’m listening to mcr right now and i love them. it’s very hot in my room.
Deadbolt; as if the name of an ill-fated racehorse, a strike of lightning stopped in its prime, a supersonic bullet whose trajectory was amiss. Truly an upsetting word.
I don’t want to keep you out anymore, but I’m too afraid to let you in. If I let you in you will see how messy my life really is, so just stay out there, for a little while longer, until I’m ready. You’ll still be there…won’t you? Please don’t leave yet, and don’t be afraid, someday I’ll let that deadbolt go, and you’ll be welcomed in. But for now, you have to stay away.
This is love. This is everything and nothing. It’s the end; it’s the quick fix; it’s the beginning. It’s the lock that chains our hearts together. It’s the lock that keeps our lover’s away.
Secure, safe, alone. All alone, with only one’s own conscience to keep themselves comfortable. Possibly insane?
A deadbolt is used to lock a door. It is more secure than a regular lock, and lets people know that you are really serious about keeping them out of your house, and also that you are very paranoid. If you are really, really paranoid, try two or three or seven deadbolts. Make sure you lock them all, all the time. And never open the door any more than is required to just peek through a little tiny crack.
deadbolt.
that it what he was, keeping her from springing to action
to achieving her dreams.
he was afraid
demanding
restricting
and he locked the door
leaving her in the dark.
he told her that she wasn’t good enough
he made her insecure and questioning.
she could have done whatever she wanted
she could have made it to the top
to be the very highest peak to the pyramid.
but instead here she is,
forced to her knees
crushed
with the weight of him on her back
struggling to straighten.
maybe one day
she will find the key
and she will finally lift this deadbolt
to be forever free again.
I shake the gate
then follow the rusted chain
where can i enter?
I reach the end of the coil,
only to find a deadbolt
I cannot get in.
That is it.
I am done.
It does not occur to me to climb,
and still to this day
I do not know why.
Finding myself compartmentalized. Bubble refracting truth. Reflecting time and experience.
Deadbolt the doors, and fear for it wont be long until someone will be kicking them in. They may be screaming search warrant or they might not say a word. Then all your possessions will become theirs. And there wont be a damn thing you can do about it. Deadbolt the doors.
when I looked out, all I could think about was what locked me in. I could see the outside, but interacting with it was so far beyond me. The lock was my security, my future, and my one curse. Would I ever move beyond it…
that sounds kind of like a band. a band i would like. maybe darkish, bluesy music. i’d enjoy it. deadbolt would have some deep meaning behind it and i’d just be dying to figure it out. i like it. i like you.
I run inside, heart pounding, and slam into the nearest room, dead bolting the door shut.
Did he hear me? Did he see me come in? I’m terrified. I don’t know what to do or how to fix this. I don’t know how to make this all better.
I sink to the floor and the walls rattle. He’s coming closer… closer. I can feel it. He’s going to kill me. He’s going to strangle or stab or kill me in some other gruesome fashion.
All because of what I did. All because of what I said.
deadbolt. what is that supposed to mean? a bolt? like nuts and bolts? that’s dead? how did it die? was it rust? old age? did the ridges cave in? is it no longer usable. deadbolt. deadbolt. you little deadbolt! it’s a nickname. god, you dumb deadbolt. how dare you, you little deadbolt?!
It locks.
It closes, andhides away.
Turn away, nothing’s here.
(I don’t want you to see them:
The skeletons in my closet)
You can’t.
I’ve locked them up and closed them away.
deadbolt, hmph, reminds me of a person. people can be deadbolts. in the sense of a locked up soul, or just a person that would weigh someone down. people deadbolt their mind and soul and dont let anything out. sounds like my dad. doesnt let anything out i wish he would
Here I am, just sitting here. I will never go anywhere. I will never do anything because I am locked in. Why? Why won’t you let me out? Why can’t I go anywhere or do anything? It’s not fair. But then again, life isn’t fair. It’s all just unfairness and injustice as people go about and do things whereas I am locked in here. Here. Here. Here I am, just sitting here.
locked. trapped in this isolation I call my heart. What do I do?
I thought it was secured. Locked with a heavy latch. Inpenetrable. Unopenable. Unreachable. You had your methods, your manner, your madness. With one tiny click of recognition, the deadbolt to my heart was undone.
what the heck does this mean? I don’t really know, and I don’t know if I want to know. As with many things in my life, I’m fine with ignorance, after all: it is bliss. But what does deadbolt mean?
The dead don’t bolt from anything. Do they? I smiled to myself, remembering those zombies of yesteryear.
the desk in front of me is immovable and I must write something on it. Or else I might not get out of here alive.
I raise my wrist, the one chained to the leg of the chair. I think of him right outside the door, breathing, waiting, breathing for me to write anything. A letter. A story. Words.
I fumble with the pen.
This is all in my head. He’s not even here. He’s never had any hold over me he’s been conscious of. It’s all my head, his influence over me, his power. Why do I let him control me?
I am a bolt. I died one day. It was very sad. I have a family, a nut wife and two beautiful thumbtack kids. They are the love of my life. It’s very tragic that they had to hammer my head in.